Work Text:
Day 1:
The clock’s blinking taunted him, another minute flashing by with no sleep. Viktor picked up his pillow and pulled it over his face, apologizing when he heard Makkachin’s whines at being disturbed from her sleep. He kept the pillows there, trying to block his thoughts as easily as he blocked the light, but all he could focus on was the soft brush of wind outside and Makkachin’s soft breathing as she slept.
Was it pathetic to be jealous of a dog?
He groaned, rolling onto his side, away from the clock (now blinking an excruciating 2:56 a.m.) and instead to the window. A distant neighbor’s dog barked and he blinked, looking to his snoring poodle again.
It wasn’t that much earlier than they normally woke up…
“Makkachin.” The only reason he kept his voice below a normal volume was his cousin (hopefully) sleeping upstairs. “Walk?” he asked, and suddenly his dog was wide awake, letting out a loud bark.
“Shh,” Viktor whispered, and then, like she could understand, continued, “You’ll wake Yura! Or worse, Potya!”
Makkachin barked again and Viktor laughed. “Okay, okay. Let me put pants on, then we’ll go.” He pressed his forehead against hers, receiving a sloppy dog kiss before pushing her against the bed with a murmured, “Door.” Makkachin went running, and Viktor quickly changed into running clothes, tugging on a jacket as he left the room.
Makkachin was waiting patiently by the door when Viktor came out. Although she was sitting, her tail was wagging excitedly, brushing away any dirt from the floor and making Viktor question why they even owned a broom. He smiled, snatching his keys and wallet from the counter he’d thrown them on and shoving them into his already full pockets. He’d have to clean those out later, god only knew what might be in them. He sat down to pull on his shoes, tying the laces tightly before grabbing Makkachin’s leash.
He wouldn’t normally use a leash (he never had before moving here), but the old woman down the street seemed to think that any unleashed dog (even one like Makkachin, who would never hurt a fly) was a threat. Viktor clipped the leash to her collar, ruffling her fur. “Ready?” he asked, opening the door. Even though she had just woken up, she immediately tugged him down the street. Makkachin, without fail, loved walks.
Viktor finally got her calmed down and walking at a normal pace, staying silent behind her as they passed what felt like the same house over and over. Few had lights on, and the monotonous visage of house after house was doing nothing to help with his sleeplessness.
He'd just turned onto a new street to begin his path back home, when he finally passed a different house – one that caused him to stop, and Makkachin to nearly knock him over.
Soft pop music was drifting through the open windows, a song clearly not in English, though Viktor couldn’t place what language it was in. The music wasn’t the important part, though, because what had caught Viktor’s attention was the alluring smell of cookies or something similarly sweet. His dietician would killhim over something that smelled so good, which made it all the more appealing.
He found himself drifting ever so slowly toward the house and that amazing smell, hoping Makkachin stayed quiet. He had to say something. Was knocking creepy? Either way, it would probably be muffled by the music, which he realized was much louder than it had seemed from farther away.
Maybe he had a pen and some paper.
Digging through his pockets, he found what he needed… sort of. In one of his overstuffed pockets, he located a purple sparkly gel pen that Chris had given him as a joke to use at work, and an expired car wash coupon, the back of which had nothing printed on it. They were far from the ideal supplies to use for leaving a note at his neighbor’s house, but…
Well, it was creepy enough to leave a note, the purple pen and car wash coupon had to make it less intimidating, right?
Viktor quickly wrote down his message before setting it on the doormat and walking away. Maybe if he jogged the rest of the way, he’d exhaust his body (and his thoughts) enough to sleep.
It didn’t work. He went back home to a clock flashing 4:00 a.m. and a dog that almost immediately fell back asleep. He fell asleep no earlier than 5:30 a.m. and woke up no later than 7:30 a.m.
He really needed to figure something out to help with that.
Day 2:
It had been a late night the night before. Yuuri had started baking around midnight, with the full intention of finishing around two and then going to bed, a great plan, completely well thought out. Instead, he’d realized that he didn’t have all of the ingredients he needed and so he’d rewritten the recipe four times until it was something that he could actually use.
Which meant that he was up until nearly four in the morning baking, and he had class the next day. Phichit was probably going to kill him, but that was fine. He was pretty sure there was nothing important he forgot to do for class before he got carried away with all of this. Anyway, he tried to do his homework as soon as he got home every day, so he wouldn’t forget.
Yuuri pretty much knew he’d barely make it to class when he woke up. After the late night baking, he’d fallen asleep on the couch, which meant that he had to shower, and then go into his bedroom and quickly change into clothes even remotely acceptable to wear to class.
He grabbed his backpack and his wallet and keys, making sure that he was ready for the day. By the time he’d finally gathered everything that he needed, Yuuri had less than five minutes to get out of the house if he wanted to make it to class on time without running.
And then he saw the note.
Yuuri raised his eyebrows at the slightly crumpled piece of paper on his porch, tucked just enough under his welcome mat that it wouldn’t fly away. He pulled it out, sitting on the top step when he realized that something was written on it (in a sparkly purple pen that made him more confused than he was already).
Hi! I hope it isn’t weird that I left a note, haha! I was taking a late night walk and passed by your house. I heard the music first, and then I smelled… whatever you were making, and it was unbelievable. You must be one of the most talented cooks in the world, because for something to smell that good at 4 am is a crime. I hope this note isn’t creepy, I just wanted you to know that it smelled delicious and was a nice addition to an otherwise monotonously boring walk!! I hope to see you around someday (maybe I already have??) – <3 V
Yuuri stared at the note, trying to decipher how to reply to it, but his phone was buzzing in his pocket, telling him that this was the last possible minute that he could leave and still be on time to class. He shoved the note into his pocket, dashing off of his porch and making it into the classroom just in time.
Yuuri slid into a seat beside his best friend, Phichit, who raised his eyebrows at him, clearly intending to talk about something once they had the opportunity. It was a group work day for some ‘very important presentation’ they had next week, but Phichit and Yuuri had already worked through most of it outside of class, so as soon as everyone else was discussing, Phichit pulled out his phone and leaned forward.
“You were stress baking again last night,” he accused, and Yuuri shrugged, tapping his fingers against their textbooks. “Yuuri, how late were you up?”
“Um… four am? Maybe five? I got… a few hours of sleep,” he said, trying to rub the offending crustiness and tiredness from his eyes and forcing a wide smile onto his face so that his friend wouldn’t accuse him of less, but Phichit narrowed his eyes, scrolling through to something on his phone.
He slid it forward, and Yuuri winced. The texts from last night, the ones that he’d stopped responding to just before 3 in the morning, were displayed right there on Phichit’s phone.
yuuri: i’m out of eggs again, what’s a good substitute for eggs? (Received: 2:37 a.m.)
phichit: i think u can use applesauce. y do u need eggs? (Read: 2:43 a.m.)
yuuri: i don’t have enough applesauce either this is stupid i should have planned better before i started (Received: 2:46 a.m.)
phichit: yuuri? (Read: 2:49 a.m.)
yuuri: do you have an egg i can borrow? i just need one (Received: 2:50 a.m.)
yuuri: i guess it’s not borrowing if it’s an egg (Received: 2:50 a.m.)
yuuri: fuck it i’ll just third the recipe (Received: 2:51 a.m.)
phichit: yuuri… u r stress baking again. (Read: 2:58 a.m.)
Yuuri groaned, covering his face with his hands. “It’s the project –”
“We’re nearly finished with the project –”
“And I have a larger role than usual at dance –”
“Which you told Lilia you could handle, so I don’t see why –”
“I just… am stressed.” Yuuri glared at Phichit, as if challenging him to try to say something in response to that, but Phichit wisely kept his mouth shut. Yuuri closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his chest before finally saying, “Someone left a note on my porch last night.”
“A note? Was it a noise complaint? Yuuri, I told you that your awful taste in music would get you into trouble someday, and now look where you are!” Phichit was teasing, Yuuri knew this, but his cheeks still flushed red as he pulled the note out of his pocket (just as purple and glittery as before). Now, Yuuri was able to tell that it was written… on a car wash coupon.
“It was… from somebody who thought my house smelled good?” Yuuri shrugged, handing the note over to Phichit, who read it greedily.
Phichit laughed at the end of it, looking back up at Yuuri. “So, what are you going to do?” he asked.
Yuuri shrugged again. “I don’t know… I was just going to ignore it?” Phichit rolled his eyes, shaking his head, because, clearly, that just wouldn’t do.
“You could leave them some of the cookies you made last night! You know that Lilia would kill you if you gained weight from stress baking again, and they’d probably appreciate it.” Phichit smirked. “Plus, what if they’re cute!”
Yuuri groaned, looking down at his book. “I’m not going to flirt with the person who left a note on my porch at four a.m. yesterday,” he said decisively.
“Fine, fine. But you really should leave them some cookies,” Phichit advised, as they finally turned back to their project. Yuuri hummed, considering. What was the worst that could come from leaving some cookies?
After the rest of class, followed by a grueling dance session, Yuuri went back home, still trying to think of what to do about the note. He put away the rest of the dishes that he’d used the night before, stumbling upon a recipe for banana bread that Phichit had left for him a few days ago, along with some bananas that were starting to get too ripe. They were plenty brown now, and he’d gotten eggs on the way home from class…
A few hours later, Yuuri was sitting at his kitchen table with a warm loaf of banana bread, a Tupperware container full of cookies, and a half-written note. He groaned as he balled the note up once again, throwing it into the trash and starting a new one for what felt like the thousandth time (it was really three).
Not creepy, not really, I guess, haha. Here’s some cookies, it was what I was making last night, I hope you enjoy. The recipe is on the back of this, in case you have allergies or something, I don’t need someone suing their poor stress-baking neighbor over an ingredient I didn’t realize would hurt you, haha. Um… I hope you enjoy them? Thank you for your note, by the way. It was a change, haha. But. Yeah. I… hope you enjoy these.
Yuuri glared at the clock – 2 a.m., and he couldn’t get this stupid note to make sense. Deciding that was the best he was going to do, he brought both outside and placed the unsigned note under the container. He went back inside, flipping off the lights in the kitchen on his way to his bedroom. Once up the stairs, he changed into his pajamas and curled up in his bed to read, even if he was far from focused on the book.
Maybe he’d wake up and there’d still be a Tupperware container of cookies on his front porch, but…
Maybe there’d be another note?
Despite how strange the situation was, he was sort of hoping for that new note. He’d like to know more about V with the purple sparkly gel pen and penchant for four a.m. walks and leaving notes on his (or her… but Yuuri was secretly imagining V as a man) neighbor’s porch.
Day 3:
“Chris, you don’t understand,” Viktor groaned again at his lunch break, shoveling a mouthful of too-dry cafeteria salad into his mouth. “Here, here, I brought them with me, try one!” He shoved the container of cookies toward his friend and colleague, who took one and bit into it, raising his eyebrows.
“They’re pretty good, Viktor, but… really? You took a walk at four in the morning that led you to your neighbor’s house, then you left a note on that neighbor’s doorstep because they were baking something delicious and they… left you these cookies?” Chris finished his cookie, looking for Viktor’s permission before taking another. Viktor understood. They were much better than any of the food that was provided in the cafeteria. Maybe, if Viktor managed to get to sleep before 4 a.m. someday, he might be able to make himself a lunch and not have to deal with gross cafeteria lunches ever again.
“And a note! Chris, do they want me to write them back? I need to tell them they were the best cookies I’ve ever eaten, right? What’s the proper protocol for something like this, Chris?” Viktor leaned against the table to stare pleadingly up at his friend. He picked up the last cookie, diets be damned, beginning to eat it.
“Why don’t you return it in daylight like a normal human being and talk to your neighbor in person?” Chris suggested, and Viktor raised his eyebrows, somehow not having thought of that.
“I… okay.” Their lunch break was about over, so Viktor savored the last few bites of the cookie before tucking the empty container back into his bag and walking in to finish off his appointments for the day.
Was it weird to go to the house as soon as he got back from work, though? It wasn’t like whoever owned the house would know, but what if they found out somehow? He could just wait a few hours: relax, change into not-work clothes, clean up the container he’d been given with the treats. It would be fine.
This perfect plan in mind, Viktor went back to his house. As soon as he was home, he curled up on his couch and watched a movie with Makkachin. And then it was 6, so he made dinner, and called his cousin and aunt and uncle down to eat with him, washing out the Tupperware container with his own dishes.
By the time he’d done all of this, it was getting dark outside, and Viktor worried at his bottom lip, trying to decide if this was outside of the range of “normal hours” when he could go and meet the person who had made the cookies. He grabbed his phone, looking at the time. Was it a matter of times or brightness? He frowned, setting down his phone to look outside. It was getting darker… maybe meeting his neighbor was a task for another day.
So he went to the couch and took out his tablet so that he could keep reading the book that he’d started a few days ago, while Yuri disappeared back upstairs to do whatever he always did. Viktor had a slight suspicion that he snuck out his window just because he could (Viktor wouldn’t care if Yuri just went through the front door when he left, but Yuri felt the need to… show Viktor up? Or something. Teenagers. At least Yakov and Lilia still lived with them, so Viktor wasn’t technically in charge).
But time ticked by slower and slower while Viktor stayed endlessly awake, eventually choosing to set his tablet back down and just stare at the clock, his fists buried in his dog’s fur.
“What do you think, Makkachin? Another walk?” It was two in the morning, which wasn’t the most ideal time for a walk, but Viktor didn’t care, throwing on some new jogging clothes and seeking out Makkachin’s leash before heading out. He really shouldn’t do this, not if what Chris suggested was right, but, well… What else was he supposed to do?
He’d brought a different pen this time, a black one that actually wrote legibly without him having to press on it with his life. He’d also brought a notebook. Not that he planned on leaving a note for his neighbor, or anything. No. He was just taking his dog for a walk at two in the morning.
Viktor groaned at his own thoughts, letting Makkachin lead the way around the neighborhood for a while before he was near the house again. He took a few minutes to think before shaking his head, walking up to the porch again. He was crazy. His neighbor was going to think he was a stalker or something. It didn’t matter.
Viktor sat on the top step of his neighbor’s porch and began to write.
Thank you for the cookies!! They tasted just as delicious as they smelled, so I was so glad to have them, even if I had to share with a co-worker. Couldn’t share with my dog, though, she was so disappointed, they must have teased her so much, haha!! I brought you your container back – washed, too, so don’t worry about that, haha!!!! Thank you again, it made my late night (early morning? What is it if you don’t sleep?) much more worth it. – <3 V
Day 4:
It had been a day. One singular day, and V had already returned the Tupperware and left him another note. Sure, he’d sort of been hoping that V would respond to him, but he didn’t expect it would be a single day between their messages. Yuuri shoved the note into his binder and threw the Tupperware into his house before locking the door behind him, walking leisurely to class even with the weighty reminder of the note. He couldn’t read it until after class, not unless he wanted it to be the only thing he thought about all day again.
At least this class they weren’t doing group work, so Yuuri could curl up at his desk with his notebook and binder propped on his knees, taking careful notes as he paid attention in class. He’d arrived just on time, meaning that Phichit couldn’t pull him to the side and try to talk to him – which was good, because he really did not need that when he hadn’t even read the note yet.
Class went quickly, and Phichit only had time to say hello to Yuuri before he was dashing out of the room, another class to get to. Yuuri took his time walking home, the note still heavy in his backpack. He’d read it as soon as he got home, he decided. He’d see what V said, and then go from there. Maybe V just wanted to say thank you and then stop their weird communication through notes left on Yuuri’s front porch.
It wasn’t like V knew anything about him, anyway, other than the fact that he was a stress baker who was up at weird times of night and didn’t mind leaving baked goods for his neighbor who left a note that most people would probably find creepy on his porch.
God, Yuuri even found it cute. He liked the idea of his house stopping V’s walk, making him hesitate, turn around, and come check out the loud Japanese music and the smell of baked goods that were so out of place so early in the morning.
Yuuri shoved his hands into his pockets, glad he was alone and these were internal thoughts, because clearly his mind had been made. He was going to reply to V. Why wouldn’t he? He had no reason to drop communication, and… well, so far it had been good. Why would anything change? Maybe it would get better?
Yuuri got to his house, still buried in his thoughts, and unlocked the door, stepping inside and picking up the container he’d thrown in before he’d left for class. He walked into the kitchen to drop his backpack down onto the ground, taking out the note first. He’d worry about homework after this. As he read, a smile grew on his face – V was volunteering information about himself to Yuuri. He had a dog. Yuuri bit his lip, deliberating for only another moment before he pulled out a loose sheet of paper and a pen, settling down to write.
I’m glad you enjoyed them, my ballet instructor would have killed me anyway if I had eaten them all, so it’s best that I left some to share, haha. And hopefully there were plenty to share with your co-worker, even though there weren’t too many. You have a dog? If I knew that, I would have left something much more dog friendly!! I used to have a dog, but I didn’t bring him with me when I came to America for university, and I miss him… If it’s not too much to ask (and assuming you’re going to reply to this), can I see a picture of your dog? No rush, I just love dogs, haha. I guess you do too, if you’d be willing to share treats with yours.
I left something you can share tonight! The recipe is attached again, but they’re pretty much just peanut butter, banana, and oats. Probably better tasting to the dog than to you, but I guess also human friendly if you want to try one. I kept them small, but they’re easy to reshape if you want to – I wasn’t sure how big your dog was, and didn’t want a choking hazard. Best served at least sort of cold, but I just took them out of the freezer before I put them out, so you should be good with that! They should also last a while if you keep them refrigerated, so take your time returning the container.
If it’s also not too much to ask (and, again, if you’re going to respond), what’s your favorite dessert? I figure if I’m going to share anyway, I might as well make something that you’ll enjoy (as long as it’s not too hard…).
Again, he didn’t bother to sign off the note, instead quickly throwing together the ingredients for the aforementioned dog treats (a recipe he’d had memorized with how much Vicchan used to enjoy them, but he still printed off a copy). He put them in the freezer and got started on his homework, trying not to panic about how long his note was. It was just friendly correspondence between two friends who happened to have never met and were exchanging notes and baked goods instead of actual communication, but it was fine. Yuuri didn’t have all that many friends other than Phichit anyway, so this was good for him.
Around two a.m., he paused in his homework to put out the treats, taping his note to the top of the container and disappearing back into his house before V had the chance to see him.
As much as he loved this game of leaving notes and baked goods for him, he… was pretty sure that he didn’t want to see V in person.
… Pretty sure.
Day 4 (Continued):
Was it bad that there wasn’t a second thought in Viktor’s head when the clock turned past two a.m., other than that it was time to go on a walk with Makkachin? It was like it was in their very being now, that they had to go to that house every night, and they had to leave a note, to see what had happened while they were gone. He wasn’t even expecting more treats, he just wanted to know something, anything, about whoever lived there. Viktor (with the help of Chris) had accepted that… maybe… he was flirting a little bit with them, but also he maybe kind of really needed another friend.
Makkachin seemed to know that they’d have a late walk too, because she came bounding over to Viktor the second he snuck back out of his bedroom in workout clothes, her tail pounding against the floor. Viktor laughed softly, rubbing her ears (as an excuse to clip on her leash) before standing back up. “Okay, okay, I know. It’s time for a walk,” he laughed.
At least he didn’t beeline to the house, though. Viktor took a completely reasonable half hour walk through the neighborhood before he even thought about turning his attentions to the house that he really wanted to go to. But, with the final turn out of a nearby cul-de-sac, he could see the house, and he sighed, looking down at Makkachin. They’d finish their walk after they took a stop there.
Viktor led his dog to the house, immediately stepping up onto the porch despite the fact that it was nearly 4 a.m. and anyone in the neighborhood would think he was crazy for doing this. He smiled at the sight of the container, grabbing the note before so much as looking at the treats within the plastic box. Reading through, he was shocked by how much the person who lived in this house had revealed about himself that night. He wasn’t from America, he was in school (or had just finished, if he still didn’t have his dog), he liked dogs, he did ballet, he… might not be a man. Viktor shook his head to clear his thoughts, groaning at himself. He was way too invested in this if he was disappointed that the person inside the house might not be a man, even with the traits that might say otherwise.
Nonetheless, Viktor poked at one of the treats, making sure that it was soft enough before turning his attention back to his dog. “Makkachin,” he whispered, “treat?” He held the ball out in his hand, and Makkachin sniffed at it for only seconds before lapping it up, chewing happily and resting at his side. Viktor quickly closed the lid so that Makkachin wouldn’t know that there were more, before readying his pen and paper and leaning against the railing as he began to write his response.
She loved them!!! I gave her one as soon as I saw they were safe, and she scarfed it right down. I’ll have to take your word on them being good for humans too – I don’t think she’s going to share this time. Which is fine with me, I don’t need to explain to everyone why I’m gaining weight from baked goods from my mysterious neighbor’s house, haha! Makkachin will be happy to have her own treats. (Makkachin being my dog. Which. You probably already knew. From the way I mentioned her.)
You’re a dancer? My aunt runs a ballet company in the city, but I was never one for it. I had a brief career as a model, but she always told me I wasn’t flexible or disciplined enough to be a dancer. I don’t particularly mind, it was never something I was passionate about anyway.
As for my favorite dessert, it’s kind of a strange one, I guess. You mentioned in your note you moved to America for college, or, at least, that you’d left your dog outside of America, and I’m in a similar position. I moved from Russia when I was younger. My aunt and uncle and my cousin (not their child, another aunt’s, but they treat us both as their own) came with me, but they’re not nearly as good cooks as my mother was. Mama used to make Зефи́р, which are zephirs when read in English. They’re kind of like marshmallows, but… different? It’s been a long time since I had them, but they used to be a favorite. I doubt you’ve made them before, though, so please feel free to stick to simpler things. Ones you’ll also enjoy, not Russian sweets.
Have a nice night! Thank you for thinking of me and Makkachin again, it’s very nice of you to keep us in your thoughts, since you barely know us.
Deep down, yes, Viktor was hoping that they’d get to know the man (or woman, he had to remind himself again) that lived in this house better, but… Well, this was good enough for now, he supposed.
And then he remembered the final part of the note and grabbed his wallet, digging through it until he found the picture of Makkachin he always carried with him. It was an old one, and Yuri liked to make fun of him for it, because he said that most people carried pictures of their children, but Viktor carried one of his dog. Nonetheless, he slid the picture with the note, adding one last line.
Here’s a picture of Makkachin. Oh, and by the way, my name is Viktor :)
He left the note underneath the mat as always, picking up the container of dog treats in one hand and Makkachin’s leash in the other before resuming their walk.
When he got back home, he fell asleep almost immediately.
Day 5:
The note he found in the morning revealed basically everything that Yuuri ever needed to know about V, and then so much more. First off, his weird intuition was right, and it was a man, and that man’s name was Viktor.
Viktor. Yuuri had repeated the name under his breath when he first read the note, smiling to himself. Now he had a name to put on all of these things that he was doing. Plus, he knew Viktor’s dog’s name. Makkachin, who looked like Vicchan, only about ten times bigger, if the picture did her any justice. He’d have to keep that in mind if he made her treats again.
And then, lastly, the part that threw him into his daily crisis and had him thanking god that it was Saturday and Lilia only had him on call until 3, Viktor was Russian. And his favorite dessert was an adorable Russian sweet that of course Yuuri would make for him, once he found a recipe and made sure that he had the ingredients.
After dance, he took a shower and changed into more comfortable clothes (a pair of baggy sweatpants and a graphic tee with some dumb pun on it that Phichit had bought for him) before he began to google recipes. He read through two pages of recipes before he picked one that he liked – a recipe for blackberry zephirs that seemed mostly legit and also a very soft purple color that reminded him of the pen Viktor had first used, even if less intense. Plus, the recipe seemed easy to follow, and that was incredibly important since Yuuri had definitely never made Russian candies before.
There was a first time for everything.
He read through the recipe, writing down the list of ingredients that he needed before digging through his cabinets, pulling out all that he had and making a quick list of what he still needed. He changed clothes again (his sweatpants were not acceptable to go outside in), grabbed his wallet and keys, and walked to the store, keeping a quick pace. If the recipe was right, this wasn’t going to be easy, and Yuuri didn’t want to waste too much time at the store when he really had to get home and make sure that these zephirs turned out perfect.
Because, clearly, making Russian sweets for the (apparently Russian) man you’d been (kind of, not really, no matter what Phichit said) flirting with was an utmost priority that deserved an insane amount of stress. He tapped his foot anxiously against the floor as he checked out of the store and dashed back home to begin cooking.
The first batch turned out to be a gooey disaster, and Yuuri let out a sigh of relief that he’d… kind of expected that and had bought extra ingredients in the event that he’d have to make another batch. He worked slowly, not looking at the time, letting his music blare loudly in the background as he finished up the treats for the second time, setting them off to the side when they were finished (and actually looked acceptable). He’d put them in another container after he’d finished his other treat for the night.
It was just another simple dog-safe recipe, made a bit bigger this time for Viktor’s clearly large dog. He cleaned up the kitchen, setting the desserts onto the table and grabbing his paper and a pen. He didn’t have much time for a note, because a glance at the clock ramped up his panic – it was nearly 3 in the morning by the time he’d finished everything.
I hope you enjoy the zephirs! They took a little bit more work than I thought they would, so I hope they turned out okay! I took a few for myself, but I haven’t tried them yet, so I’ll be sure to tell you how they tasted when I do. The other container is for Makkachin – give her a scratch for me?
Um… And it’s good to know your name, Viktor. Better than calling you V in my head, I guess, haha. Yeah, I came from Japan for university, since they had a much better program for what I wanted than anything back home.
And my name is Yuuri.
He didn’t know what else to write in the note, his heart already pounding as he picked up the two containers, walking to his front door and leaning down to set the desserts onto his porch.
As he turned around, he saw a big brown mass led by a human heading toward his house out of the corner of his eye. The dog barked, and Yuuri’s eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. That had to be Makkachin and Viktor.
He quickly slid back into his house, shutting and locking the door behind him, and snuck over to the nearest window, pulling the shade closed so Viktor couldn’t see him. To ensure that he was completely out of sight, Yuuri pressed himself against the wall, peering through a crack in the blinds at Viktor as he came up to the porch.
Holy shit.
Day 5 (Continued):
Viktor all but broke into a sprint when he saw the man on the porch. Makkachin took it as a game and barked, following quickly after him, which seemed to make the man on the porch notice that they were coming. He disappeared back into the house right before Viktor got there, heart pounding with the exhilaration of his run and from glimpsing the man that he’d been obsessed with for the past few days. He climbed up the stairs onto the porch quickly, debating knocking on the door and getting him to come back out, but he decided that it was probably for the better to let this one go.
He sat down on the porch, his chest still heaving from his run, and picked up the containers that were next to him, time all but stopping when he saw what was made for him. There, even if a little lumpy and clearly not as expertly done as his mother had, was a container full of zephirs. Viktor bit his lip in excitement, but he had to read the note first.
Yuuri.
Yuuri was the name of the man who had done so much for him without ever actually meeting him. Strange, the same name as his cousin, but that didn’t bother Viktor. He pulled out one of Makkachin’s treats first, handing it to his dog to gnaw on before uncovering the container of zephirs.
Viktor took one of the purply pink sweets out of the container and laughed giddily (he felt like a child) as a little bit of powdered sugar fell off into his lap. He paused to brush it off before taking a bite of the treat, leaning against the railing with his eyes closed. Fuck. Yeah, he’d missed this. He’d missed the sweet taste and the fluffy texture. And Yuuri had picked such a good recipe. Even if blackberry was not the flavor that he was most familiar with, it was nonetheless a taste that made him feel so much closer to home.
Viktor felt the prick of tears in his eyes and laughed in slight hysteria. Was he crying over a dessert, or the fact that the man that he’d been obsessed with for nearly a week had made these for him? He finished the zephir, setting the container back onto the porch (not without the intention of eating almost all of them within the next day. He’d have to hide these from Yuri. He wasn’t sharing).
He pulled out his paper and realized that he had no idea what to write. Again, he considered knocking, but that would be even crazier than all he’d done so far, so instead he just wrote everything on his mind.
Yuuri,
Thank you so much for telling me your name, it’s such a joy to have… anything to call you, haha. I’ve just been calling you the baker or my neighbor to my friend at work, and I think he was getting a little worried. But now I have a name, and that makes it all so much better. Yuuri! Someone to thank for my delicious treats.
The zephir I just ate was amazing. It’s been so long, and my aunt can’t make them properly at all, and I think I nearly cried when I took that first bite. Maybe not perfect, but perfect for what I needed. Thank you so much.
I saw you today, I think, briefly. I hope it wasn’t because the zephirs took too long to make? I know they’re complicated, which is why I said you needn’t make them, but I still appreciate that you did. And Makkachin loved her treats as well. I think she’s very happy that she’s involved in this. Usually, she just gets store-bought treats because I don’t have much baking ability. Cooking, yes, but baking… is a whole other nightmare.
Your treats fix that right up, though <3
You can… text me, if you want? I’ve written my phone number at the bottom of this note. Just tell me who you are in your first text. It seems like an easier form of communication than baked goods and handwritten notes. Not that I want to stop this for the world. Please don’t. Please keep leaving me notes, even if you text me.
<3 Viktor
He quickly scrawled down his phone number before eating another zephir, wishing that Yuuri had stayed outside that night so he could tell him in person how much he enjoyed the treat.
Day 6:
Viktor had left him his phone number. Viktor had left him his phone number. On the note, that Viktor left, there was a phone number. Yuuri held the note so tightly that he was shocked it didn’t rip in his grasp, his hands shaking slightly.
Viktor had left him his phone number.
There were a million thoughts racing through his head at that moment, and all of them centered around the same general thing – whether or not he should text Viktor now that he had his phone number. Viktor seemed incredibly nice, and Yuuri wouldn’t mind another picture of his dog. Or to talk to him more than once a night.
Yuuri set the note off to the side for a few hours, cleaning up and making lunch as he kept trying to decide –
Fuck it.
Yuuri saved Viktor’s number into his phone, opening up a new message so he could talk to him. Yuuri was only somewhat shocked to see that Viktor read it as soon as it was delivered, and he smiled to himself, curling up on his couch so he could keep texting Viktor. Just for a little bit. He wanted to know more about the man that he’d been baking every night for – more than his usual stress baking.
yuuri: this is yuuri. your neighbor with the baked goods. (Read: 12:18 p.m.)
viktor: yuuri!!! i was worried you might not text me, so i’m glad to hear from you so quickly!!! :) (Received: 12:19 p.m.)
yuuri: i… figured… it would be good to talk to you this way. much easier than notes, haha. (Read: 12:19 p.m.)
viktor: it is!!! tell me all about yourself – do you have pictures of your dog from japan? when did you come to america? what are you studying? i can tell you about myself, too! (Received: 12:20 p.m.)
viktor: i’m from st. petersburg russia but i moved to america with my aunt, uncle, and cousin, and i studied sports therapy and now i practice!! (Received: 12:20 p.m.)
yuuri: um i’m from hasetsu in japan and i’m studying counselling, i came five years ago when i started undergrad. (Read: 12:21 p.m.)
Yuuri added on a picture of Vicchan with his texts, and laughed as Viktor immediately texted him back. They texted for a few hours, until Viktor stopped to make dinner, so Yuuri also put his phone to the side in order to prepare his own dinner, trying to think of what he was going to make for Viktor that night. He figured that Viktor would still appreciate baked goods, even though they had been texting all day.
He chewed on his lip. Their conversation had started with talking about where they’d come from, and that had continued throughout the day, trading facts about their family and hobbies and hometowns, so Yuuri had an idea. He’d worked in the onsen with Mari and his parents when he had been in Hasetsu, and Hiroko often let him and Mari help out with the restaurant – especially desserts. The tourists liked the traditional-looking treats, so Yuuri had been taught how to make some very complex wagashi, in all sorts of shapes and designs.
He had all the ingredients and supplies. Yuuri grinned, checking his phone for any new notifications before getting started, sitting at his table and carefully shaping the sweets into flowery patterns, making them more intricate than usual since he was making them for Viktor.
Look, maybe he’d accepted that he had kind of been flirting with Viktor all day. And maybe even all week, the whole time they’d been writing notes and Yuuri had been giving him baked goods. He wanted these to be perfect for Viktor, to show off how much he appreciated being friends with him, even in this strange form of friendship.
Yuuri spent hours in his kitchen making the designs perfect, finishing at two in the morning. He carefully arranged the treats into a box, putting the lid overtop of it and tying a ribbon around it to keep it sealed. He debated with himself on whether or not he needed a note, though. If they were texting, was it necessary? Or did Viktor like the handwritten communication? Maybe just a short one to explain?
Viktor,
We were talking earlier about the onsen where I grew up in Hasetsu – I learned to make these there. They’re wagashi, Japanese sweets, and they come in different designs. These are supposed to be flowers. I hope you like them :)
Yuuri
He placed the note and the box on his porch, debating for a second whether or not to go inside, or to risk the chance to see Viktor again. He sighed to himself, deciding that now wasn’t the time, and he went back into his house to clean up his kitchen, checking his phone when he heard it buzzing.
viktor: [img attached: a picture of the wagashi Yuuri had left on his porch] (Received: 2:34 a.m.)
viktor: they look amazing, yuuri!!!! thank you for making them for me, i can’t wait to eat them!!! (Received: 2:34 a.m.)
Yuuri looked at the texts, holding his phone tight in his hand as he waited to see if Viktor was going to say anything else. Instead, he heard a dog’s collar jingling and the voice on his porch say something indecipherable before there was silence.
Yuuri pressed his back against the door.
Had Viktor been waiting for him?
Yuuri waited a few extra minutes, just in case, before sliding out the door, a smile quirking on his face upon seeing the note sitting there. He picked it up immediately.
Yuuri,
Thank you for the treat, it’s clearly something special to you like the zephirs were special to me!! I’m excited to see what you might make next. This note doesn’t need to be nearly as long, since we can text now, haha.
<3 Viktor
Yuuri groaned, rubbing his hands against his eyes. Did Viktor want to meet him in person? Would he be excited to know who Yuuri actually was, or disappointed? Yuuri frowned, setting the note on the pile where he kept the rest (a ridiculous habit that reminded him of love letters in bad romcoms). Viktor could initiate in-person contact if he wanted to. He knew where Yuuri lived. Maybe, one night, he’d knock. Or ring the doorbell. Or ask Yuuri to come out.
Or maybe not.
yuuri: not that i don’t appreciate your notes, but i hope that you sleep more often. no one will steal your treats off my porch <3 or else i’d make more. (Delivered: 3:01 a.m.)
Day 20:
It had been two weeks since Viktor had given Yuuri his phone number, and he completely accepted the fact that he was unrealistically in love with this man that he had seen all of one time, and for only the briefest of seconds. They texted every day, and Viktor knew more about Yuuri than most other people in his life, but he didn’t know what he looked like, or what he sounded like.
But he had a plan.
He’d thought about it for days now, how he was going to meet Yuuri in person for the first time. He considered just setting up a time, but… he wanted it to be a surprise. He wanted to do something that would be unique for their first meeting, something to show Yuuri how much he cared about him.
He’d decided to make Yuuri pirozhki and buy a decent bottle of wine and show up at his house and hope for the best, and tonight was the night.
Viktor reached his hand up to ring the doorbell, clenching the neck of the bottle tighter in his hand as he debated turning around and running away. It was early, much earlier than he usually came around, so Yuuri wouldn’t know it was him who disappeared from his front porch, even if he saw him. After all, what if Yuuri preferred the anonymity of just texting Viktor and leaving notes?
It was too late. He’d bought this expensive wine, he’d made these pirozhki – he’d ring the doorbell. This was going to happen. Viktor breathed out, finally pressing the button so that the noise rang out, and he stood in silence, waiting for the door to open. What was he going to say if the door opened? Yuuri wouldn’t recognize him, he’d have no idea who Viktor was.
What if Yuuri wasn’t home, and Viktor was just awkwardly ringing someone’s doorbell?
And then the door cracked open. A confused-looking man with black hair and sparkling brown eyes hidden behind glasses with an obnoxiously large frame opened it, tugging at the oven mitt that he was still wearing. Viktor’s eyes grew wide, because this was Yuuri. This barefoot, aproned man was the person he’d been falling in love with for the past few weeks. Yuuri blinked, staring at him, his eyes clearly drifting in confusion to the wine and dinner. “Ah, I’m sorry, who are you?” He spoke softly, rubbing a hand against the back of his head, and Viktor’s heart was screaming.
“Viktor,” he gasped out his name before thinking through a smarter answer, and Yuuri’s eyes visibly widened, his mouth slightly open. “My – I’m Viktor. Viktor, with the… with the baked goods, and the texting, and the notes,” he explained, and Yuuri laughed softly, looking at him expectantly.
“Why are you here so early, Viktor?” He opened the door a little wider, a clear invitation that Viktor was allowed into his house. Through the open doorway, Viktor could smell something divine, and he knew it was whatever Yuuri was going to give him tonight, and he was crying internally to know that tonight he’d get to eat it warm. With Yuuri.
“I…” Viktor had lost control of words, and so he shifted the bag of pirozhki higher up his wrist, taking Yuuri’s hand into his own. Yuuri let him, a blush dusting his cheeks as Viktor brought Yuuri’s hand to his lips in a soft kiss. “I was… wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me? I made pirozhki, and brought wine. I even left Makkachin at home, so she wouldn’t interrupt us.”
Yuuri’s eyes lit up, and he laughed, nodding enthusiastically. “Come in! I – my kitchen is a mess, I’m sorry, I was baking. And I’m going to go change clothes, because this is… a mess.” He gestured to the apron and oven mitt he was still wearing, laughing a little hysterically. “Please, come in,” he repeated, stepping inside and tugging the hand that Viktor was still holding with him.
Viktor stepped into the house, closing the door behind him, and the pounding of his heart only seemed to increase. He was in Yuuri’s house. With Yuuri, on a date. Sort of. Was this a date?
“I’ll be right back!” Yuuri shouted before disappearing back into another room. Viktor walked to the small table, setting the wine bottle and the bag of pirozhki down before looking around. He wanted to help Yuuri by cleaning the kitchen, but he didn’t know where anything went, and he didn’t want to disturb what must be a meticulous system of organization, so he sat down at one of the chairs, waiting for Yuuri.
When Yuuri came back out of the bedroom, dressed in tight jeans and a loose, soft-looking t-shirt, his apron and oven mitt were slung over one arm and his hair was mussed. Viktor had never seen a more attractive person in his life. “I’m so sorry, let me clean up, I wasn’t expecting… you,” Yuuri breathed the last word, and Viktor shot to his feet.
“I can help!” he offered, causing Yuuri to smile at him, slowly nodding.
“I… If you want to wash the dishes, that would help a lot? I’ll put them away, since you don’t know where any of them go?” he offered, and Viktor immediately agreed, bouncing over to the sink.
They cleaned in silence, which Viktor was just fine with, because it gave him time to get his pounding heart under control. “Where are your plates and glasses? I can set the table for dinner while you finish.” He set the last of the clean dishes on the side of the sink.
Yuuri pointed out the two cabinets. Viktor took out two plates and two wine glasses, walking them to the table, which he set carefully. He served the pirozhki onto their plates, and put utensils (which he’d thought to bring, even in his panic) beside each before turning back to Yuuri, who was reaching up to put the last dish into his cabinet.
The oven began to beep just as he did, so Yuuri grabbed his oven mitt, turning the timer off and then pulling the tray out. He set it on top of the stove before looking at Viktor with the blush still on his cheeks, awkwardly laughing as he walked to the table. “I… made sweet pirozhki for you tonight, since you said they were your cousin’s favorite,” he said, sitting across from Viktor.
Viktor laughed, surprising himself with how excited he was around Yuuri. “Thank you! You’re so attentive with what you make for me, I love it.” Viktor smiled at Yuuri, who ducked his head down with a happy smile.
“I… wanted to do something good for you. And it’s better for me not to eat all of it,” Yuuri replied, beginning to eat.
Their meal was mostly silent, and Viktor had trouble looking at anything other than Yuuri while he was eating. His face was so expressive, and gorgeous, and Viktor couldn’t imagine this going any other way. He finished eating, holding his wine glass in his hand.
“If… if you don’t want dessert yet, you’re welcome to stay for a little while,” Yuuri offered, his eyes on his wine to avoid eye contact. “I’ll probably watch a movie or a few episodes of something.”
Viktor smiled at him, nodding his head. “That sounds perfect!” he agreed, picking up the remaining pirozhki that they hadn’t eaten and handing them to Yuuri. “Keep them. I made plenty for my family to keep, you get these.” Yuuri smiled at him, bringing the pirozhki to his fridge before grabbing his wine glass, and then Viktor’s hand.
Yuuri had hesitated only for a moment before taking Viktor’s hand and twining their fingers together.
Viktor was still in disbelief of how well this was going when Yuuri smiled up at him and led him into the living room. Viktor carried his glass and the remaining wine with him, his mind going crazy. He was going to die tonight.
Yuuri paused once they were in the living room, disconnecting their hands so he could set out coasters, placing his glass onto the coffee table before tugging Viktor onto his couch, sitting down right beside him, but not touching beyond their connected hands.
It took all of Viktor’s self-control not to curl up into Yuuri’s side and never leave. They watched a few episodes of some comedy, Yuuri smiling over the rim of his wineglass, and Viktor’s eyes on Yuuri the whole time. After one of the episodes ended, Yuuri paused the tv, standing up. “I’m going to go get the pirozhki I made, ok?” He walked into the kitchen.
Yuuri returned a few minutes later, carrying two plates, one of which he offered to Viktor before sitting down and snuggling into his side. Viktor’s eyes widened in surprise, setting his arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. Viktor was going to die today, had he mentioned that yet?
“I hope they’re good. They seemed simple enough, but I don’t know…” Yuuri mumbled. Viktor picked up his pirozhki, taking a bite of it and smiling widely.
“Yuuri, it’s perfect,” he said, eating more of the pirozhki. Yuuri smiled at the praise, eating his own dessert as he turned on another episode of the show.
When they were finished, it was only around eleven, so much earlier than Viktor usually came by, but still probably a good time to leave the house. After the night of relaxing with Yuuri, he was tired, ready to curl up in bed with Makkachin and sleep for hours. As the episode ended, he looked down to Yuuri again, breathing out.
“I should probably go home,” he murmured, and Yuuri made a disappointed noise, looking up at him.
“We’ll do this again?” he requested, looking up at Viktor with a soft, happy expression, and Viktor smiled.
“I hope so. Text me, we’ll plan another date.” He started to move, but Yuuri’s hand tightened on his shirt.
“Date?” he whispered, and Viktor nodded slowly, confused. Did Yuuri not realize that Viktor desperately wanted to date him?
Yuuri’s eyes lit up, and he leaned up, meeting Viktor’s eyes. “I hope, since it’s a date, I’m allowed to do this?” He tugged Viktor down until their lips met in a soft kiss, one that left only the taste of apples and sugar in its wake. Yuuri pulled away, looking up at him.
Viktor kissed him again a little harder, holding Yuuri against his lips for a few moments before pulling away and standing up. “I don’t think there could be a better ending to our night, Yuuri,” he said with complete honesty.
“Let me get you something to take some of these home,” Yuuri said. Viktor followed him into the kitchen, leaning against a counter as he let Yuuri locate a dish that Viktor could take and put a few pirozhki into it. He walked back to Viktor, handing it off with one last kiss, standing on his tiptoes. “I’ll see you soon.”
Day ???:
They planned their next date for the weekend, choosing Saturday to order pizza to Yuuri’s house and watch whatever movies they could find. Makkachin was invited this time. Yuuri cleaned his entire apartment in preparation for Viktor coming over again, making sure that there wasn’t a single thing laying out. He’d bought all of the ingredients for cookies, so they would be able to make those if Viktor wanted to. He didn’t want to pick anything too complicated, just in case Viktor didn’t actually want to bake.
Honestly, it was a miracle nothing was made before Viktor showed up with how anxious Yuuri was. But then, right at six o’clock, the doorbell rang, and Yuuri shot to his feet, racing over to the door. He took a deep breath, calming himself, before he opened the door, smiling at the man on the other side – at Viktor. “Hi!” Viktor exclaimed, one arm behind him, holding tight to a leash.
Yuuri’s eyes lit up, kneeling on the ground. “Makkachin!” he called out, and the dog’s attention immediately turned to him, bounding up to see who’d called her name. Yuuri offered Makkachin the treat he’d picked out for her, wanting to win her affections immediately. Makkachin ate the treat right away, sniffing at Yuuri’s hand afterward and licking a line up his face, leaving Yuuri on the ground laughing and ruffling his hands through her fur before he stood up and smiled at Viktor. “Come in.”
Once Viktor and Makkachin were in the house, Yuuri sat on the floor with Makkachin while Viktor ordered their pizza, an easy call since they luckily agreed on which toppings they enjoyed. As Viktor joined him on the floor, Yuuri looked up at him nervously. “If… you want, I thought we could make cookies together? I’ve given you or Phichit most of what I’ve made the past few weeks.” He laughed quietly at his words, and Viktor’s eyes lit up.
“You want me to bake with you?” Viktor asked happily, and Yuuri nodded, letting out a surprised gasp when Viktor leaned in to kiss him. “I’d love to! Show me, Yuuri!” He took Yuuri’s hands, and Yuuri was surprised that he wasn’t dragged into the kitchen with how excited Viktor was.
Viktor clearly hadn’t baked much before, Yuuri could tell, but he also learned quickly. They pulled out a tray of lumpy but mostly circular chocolate chip cookies just as the doorbell rang with the pizza.
Viktor went to the door to pay, taking the pizza to the table so they could eat. Before Viktor sat down, he set out a bowl of food for Makkachin, so she wouldn’t try to beg for theirs. Viktor happily chatted about work while they ate, and Yuuri laughed as he listened, only asking questions or answering when Viktor fell silent (which was rare).
After dinner, they curled up on the couch again, turning on some movie that they found on tv (which turned out worse than they had expected), and Yuuri turned toward Viktor, pressing their lips together. Suddenly, it became much less about the movie and much more about making out on the couch. Yuuri found he didn’t mind. He could get used to this.
Eventually, Yuuri pulled away from the kiss with a laugh, gently shoving Viktor away. “Go home. You have work tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Viktor called as he left the house, blowing one last kiss, and Yuuri laughed giddily, closing the door behind him. Wow, he didn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky.
They’d been dating for a month when Yuuri tried out another Russian recipe, syrniki, which were some kind of pancake that he’d been consistently messing up in early attempts. These, though, he took ages on, making sure that they were perfect. Viktor was coming over after work, so Yuuri had until five or six until he showed up. He wanted the syrniki to be fresh when Viktor arrived, so he started mixing together the ingredients around four.
He paused to answer the door for Viktor, who had brought dinner (takeaway from some nearby restaurant). “Hi,” Yuuri said with a laugh as Viktor finally pulled away from his greeting kiss. “Go put dinner on the table, I’m getting dessert ready right now,” he murmured, kissing Viktor one more time before going back to the kitchen to finish slicing the dough into round pieces so that they’d be ready to fry in a few minutes.
Viktor walked into the kitchen while he was heating up his frying pan, narrowing his eyes at what was on the counters, trying to figure out what he was making. “Syrniki,” Yuuri answered the unspoken question, and Viktor’s eyes lit up, even with what must have been a terrible mispronunciation. “I have sour cream and jam for when they’re done. I don’t know how sour cream would taste good on a pancake, but I read online that that’s what you liked, so I figured that you’d want to –”
His ramblings were cut off with a kiss, so he turned to wrap his arms around Viktor’s neck, kissing his boyfriend until they were both breathless and laughing. “I love you,” Viktor whispered, and Yuuri laughed for a second before his eyes widened, looking at Viktor with huge eyes, trying to decide if he’d heard him right. Viktor was grinning widely, kissing him again. “I love you. I love you, Katsuki Yuuri.” He repeated it again and again until Yuuri was laughing, burying his face into Viktor’s neck in embarrassment.
He fried the syrniki before they started dinner, and they discussed their days while they ate, Yuuri happy to listen to all of the stories Viktor had from work about his friend Chris. Yuuri talked a little about his homework, but more about his dance, which they’d found out was taught by Viktor’s aunt.
After they ate, Yuuri set out the syrniki and the toppings he’d bought for them and watched in slight horror as Viktor slathered sour cream all over his. “I’ll never understand you,” Yuuri murmured, shaking his head as he spread jam on his own dessert, “and how you manage to put sour cream on nearly everything you eat. Isn’t that disgusting?”
“No, it’s good, try it!” Viktor, as always, was enthusiastic as he held a bite of his dessert out toward Yuuri, who couldn’t help but lean forward and take it, crinkling his nose after he had. “I’ll stick to the jam,” he said, much to Viktor’s enjoyment (as made clear by him breaking into laughter).
They finished their dessert and cleaned up in amicable silence, bumping into each other and teasing the whole time. Cleaning, therefore, ended up with Yuuri pressed against the counter as Viktor tangled his hands into his hair and kissed him like his life depended on it. Yuuri certainly didn’t mind.
As Viktor pulled away from their kiss to breathe, he let out a laugh, resting their foreheads together.
“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Much sweeter than any of the desserts. My favorite,” Viktor murmured against his lips.
Yuuri’s heart sped up at the ridiculousness of this man, and almost unwillingly, he whispered, “I love you.”
Viktor’s eyes widened excitedly as he pulled Yuuri into another deep kiss that ended with them on top of each other on the couch until it was nearly time for Viktor go home. Yuuri pulled Viktor on top of him, snuggling him close. “Did you mean it?” Viktor asked softly, clearly not wanting to leave just as much as Yuuri didn’t want him to.
“That I loved you?” Yuuri clarified, even though there really was no need to. “Of course I did. Even if I meant to tell you that was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, and you’re an idiot,” Yuuri teased, kissing Viktor again.
Viktor made a fake insulted noise, turning his head. “Yuuri!” he whined. Yuuri snuggled into him, pressing his head against Viktor’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. “I love you,” Viktor whispered, carding his fingers softly through Yuuri’s hair.
“I love you too, Vitya,” Yuuri answered, and he completely meant it. He couldn’t imagine life without Viktor.
It only took another month until Yuuri let this be known. He invited Viktor over to bake with him. They’d picked two recipes to make together, ones they wanted each other to try. The first was what Viktor had requested, another Russian pancake that he’d surely be putting sour cream on – blini. The recipe was simple, but Viktor had wanted to make it with Yuuri, which wasn’t too much of a problem, since Viktor was at his house basically any time that he wasn’t at work at this point. Viktor was much more talented at cooking actual food than dessert, though, so he took control from Yuuri as he folded them over, putting in vegetables and meat, since they intended for the blini to be their dinner.
“Are you staying over tonight?” Yuuri asked casually. Viktor didn’t go home every night, choosing to stay with him when he could. However, Makkachin hadn’t come with him tonight, which made Yuuri assume that Viktor was going back to his house.
“Mm, not today. Chris is picking me up for breakfast before work tomorrow. I wish,” Viktor sighed, finishing off his dinner and looking at him. “Don’t you have class early tomorrow anyway?” he asked. Yuuri nodded, scrunching up his nose at the thought of school.
“It’s almost summer,” Viktor soothed with a laugh. “You’ll get a break soon, love.”
Yuuri blushed, playing with the bottom of his wine glass. “I know. I’m just ready to be done with school,” he sighed.
Viktor laughed. “You’re going to be the best counselor in the world, Yuuri. Just another few years,” he promised, collecting their dishes since they’d both finished eating. Yuuri walked over to the freezer to pull out the red bean paste, sitting down to get ready to work and scooting over for Viktor to sit beside him.
“I was just thinking,” Yuuri continued once he showed Viktor what to do, working independently other than to correct his boyfriend’s movements every so often. “Maybe… you could move in?” he asked, not making eye contact, but instead looking at their hands. Viktor’s were frozen on his current ball.
Yuuri risked glancing up, and as soon as their eyes met, Viktor pulled him in for a deep kiss, their teeth clashing together as he did. Yuuri pulled away with wide eyes. “Yes,” Viktor whispered before Yuuri could ask again. “Yes, I’d love to, Yuuri.” He kissed Yuuri again, and Yuuri laughed, wrapping his arms around Viktor.
“Thank you,” he whispered, and Viktor shook his head, kissing him one last time before they finished making the mochi.
As they were cleaning up, Viktor sighed, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist and closing his eyes. “I wish I was staying here tonight. I’m not going to get any sleep tonight,” he murmured, resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I sleep better when I’m with you.”
Yuuri couldn’t think of a response, so he just turned around, wrapping his arms around Viktor in turn, tilting his head up to meet their lips in a soft kiss. “I love you.”